Blood Duet
by AshtakRa
Summary: Kurt is the undead, Puck becomes his companion and may just find what he's been looking for.  Kurt/Puck
1. Chapter 1

Title: Blood Duet

Author: AshtakRa

Fandom: Glee

Pairing: Kurt/Puck

Warnings: Supernatural themes and set in season 2

Summary: No spoilers for the first chapter except to say the boys are back from a summer break and there have been a few... changes.

Chapter 1

**Puck**

The music blared from the sound-system, probably worth more than the vehicle itself but Puck really didn't care – the engine worked fine without much investment but speakers that could give justice to his music were an absolute necessity.

_[Step inside, walk this way  
You and me babe, Hey, hey!_

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on  
Livin' like a lover with a radar phone  
Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp  
Demolition woman, can I be your man?  
Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light  
Television lover, baby, go all night  
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet  
Little miss ah innocent sugar me, yeah]

He parked on the curb, hitting the gutter as only a bad ass could and grinned as a couple jumped out of the way. They disappeared around the corner which left the street almost deserted. Puck was on a late night emergency run for lemonade and orange juice for his 'sick but possibly faking it' little sister – sure if anyone asked he was trying to score booze but how could he resist those sad brown eyes and (possibly fake) dry cough. Their Mom, already passed out in her room, was no help so here Puck was; stud of McKinley high and resident bad boy making a stop at the seven-eleven for soft drink.

He let the music play instead of getting out as a figure strolled by. Puck pretended not to look at the tight black jeans clad on a sexy backside – as a stud he could check out anything he liked but the fun was in not getting caught. Whoever it was had a hood on so Puck had no idea of exact age but he guessed by body-size and the confident swagger that this was a guy of his own age.

Yes a guy – if Puck could wear a dress and make it look cool then he could cruise a dude and still keep it hot.

_[Hey!  
C'mon, take a bottle, shake it up  
Break the bubble, break it up_

Pour some sugar on me  
Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
C'mon fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me  
Oh, I can't get enough

I'm hot, sticky sweet  
From my head to my feet yeah]

Shit! Puck cringed a little though as the figure half-turned right on the 'hot, sticky sweet' line and gave a flash of mocking smile before turning the corner. Part of him was tempted to see where things could go with that but a (maybe) sick sister was more important – not that he would ever admit that outside of their own house. The drinks remained somewhat forgotten though as cold steel was pressed behind his ear.

"Get the fuck out and don't even think 'bout doin' nothing."

"Chill dude," suggested Puck as evenly as he could. The voice had been shaky and jumped in pitch and of course the sentence made no sense which meant this guy was really nervous and probably more scared than Puck. Even as he got out Puck smirked to himself, pitch change, grammar and mood? He had learned something at Glee after-all.

"Something funny punk!" spat the dude, his face all twitchy and the gun wavered.

Puck knew better than to speak, this guy was tripping, or coming down or something so he just shook his head slowly and kept his face neutral. Why couldn't he have been jacked by a professional criminal? Probably no decent unlawful citizen would be interested in his rusty baby. For good measure he raised his arms then realised his mistake. As per usual his biceps were uncovered – you just don't hide guns like that but this time they brought the wrong kind of attention. His calm had already made the guy way too nervous and now his obvious strength was pushing the dude over the edge.

_[Listen! red light, yellow light, green-a-light go!  
Crazy little woman in a one man show  
Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of love  
Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up_

You gotta squeeze a little, squeeze a little  
Tease a little more  
Easy operator come a knockin' on my door  
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet  
Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah

Take a bottle, shake it up  
Break the bubble, break it up]

The guy whimpered, maybe he had expected some skinny whimpy guy like Hummel who would make the carjacking easy but Puck looked too much a threat. Puck winced as he saw the guy's hand start shaking and his finger caressing the trigger way too hard.

_[Pour some sugar on me  
Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
C'mon fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me  
Oh, I can't get enough]  
_

This was fucking it. The Puckster dies like a punk buying OJ and lolly water and worse his sister would blame herself. Knowing a little about self hate Puck wished he could spare her that at least.

"Hey"

The voice was soft and whispered, yet carried easily.

_[I'm hot, sticky sweet  
From my head to my feet yeah]  
_

The gunman swung to face the new player and hesitated only a moment. Puck saw it was the guy from before and from this angle he could tell he was just under his own height dressed almost completely in black with that hood still hiding his features – he thought he could see shining eyes before the gun broke the moment. There were three quick shots and Puck froze up in fear and anger. The smaller dude went down hard, his chest had caught at least two rounds that Puck saw before he fell back and crumpled to the ground soundlessly.

He had only been trying to help and now he was dead. Puck's stomach clenched at the stupidity of it all – all this for a car and the meagre amount of drugs it would buy, if any.

The guitar solo of the song blared on as the situation got worse.

"Sorry kid," muttered the killer, pointing the weapon at Puck once more. His eyes were clearer and still held fear but now determination – why stop at one murder and leave a witness? Puck knew the score and for the second time that night waited for death.

It never came.

With eyes widening in shock and confusion Puck watched as behind the gunman the smaller dude rose slowly to his feet, no evidence in his stance of being injured in the slightest. The older guy saw Puck's expression and spun around, bringing the gun up to shoot him again but this time never managed it. The dude in black jumped forward, so quick he was just a blur and Puck's jaw dropped as with one hand he batted the gun away and with the other lifted the other guy clean off the ground by his throat.

Since he was behind the two of them Puck couldn't see what the former gunman could but he heard him scream out through a barely working larynx.

"God help me! What the hell are you!"

Then Puck heard it, an inhuman and deep throated growl – not animal but not something any person could make.

The hooded guy, still holding the other off the ground leaned over and stared at Puck –

_[You got the peaches, I got the cream  
Sweet to taste, saccharine  
'Cos I'm hot, say what, sticky sweet  
From my head, my head, to my feet_

Do you take sugar? one lump or two?]

he still couldn't see a face but those sparkling eyes held him like he was in a trance. A blur of black and then Puck was alone.

He breathed in for what seemed like the first time since this began.

_[Take a bottle, shake it up  
Break the bubble, break it up] _

Had this really happened? The cordite in the air and far off sirens told him it had. Puck went back to his car to wait and leaned on the door. This moment made him realise 'bad ass' meant something altogether different in the real world. He'd already decided to get his shit together after spending summer at his aunts but great fucking Moses – he did-not-need-this.

A hand on his shoulder was the only warning before Puck was spun around, lifted up and time slowed as he stared at the night sky, seemingly held in suspension before being slammed down across his own bonnet. Slim but incredibly strong legs straddled his own and one hand on his chest prevented him rising.

_[Pour some sugar on me  
Ooh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
C'mon fire me up]  
_

"You need to tell the cops he fired blanks, then ran off." The voice was still unbelievably soft while being perfectly clear over the music and too deep for the gracile body. The hood covered his face but Puck could see those dark eyes and a hint of lips that crinkled at the corner in what Puck had to believe was amusement with a hint of contempt.

"Nobody wants too much attention… right?"

_[Pour your sugar on me  
Oh, I can't get enough  
Pour some sugar on me  
Oh, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me  
Get it, come get it]  
_

Puck could only nod, the threat was implicit and he'd seen and now felt how much strength this guy had. Then there was the - oh!

He looked down to the dude's chest and saw the two holes, neatly puncturing the black knit material. Reaching up Puck pushed a finger in one and felt nothing but hard muscle, when he held his finger close there was blood on it.

_[Pour your sugar on me  
Ooh  
Pour some sugar on me  
Yeah! Sugar me!]_

"How?"

A finger on his lips stopped any further questions as the song faded and stopped – Puck had it on single play so the silence of the night suddenly made this so more intimate.

"You need to forget about that, its not important," the figure leaned down until Puck could not avoid looking into those eyes and feel just the whisper of breath upon his own face when the other boy had spoken – for Puck now felt certain this was someone closer to his own age. He had no real reason to know this apart from the boy's size but his gut just told him this was so. A roaring in his head pushed all coherent thoughts away.

He had been about to ask something but instead, "My sister really needs her OJ and lemonade." His face scrunched in confusion – why the hell did he say that and was his brain not working properly?

The dark figure above him barely moved and Puck tried to reach out for the hood – desperate suddenly to see who it was.

His hand was batted away with ease. "You know what curiosity did to the cat," stated the hooded boy and there was that hint of smile once more.

Now that the immediacy of life and death was over Puck felt a little more like himself and considered this new situation and their relative positions – that and his brain seemed to have re-booted.

Their groins were only inches from each other and the other's hand still splayed across his chest; if it had been a girl Puck would already had made a move. Time to even the score.

"Yeah," said Puck, trying to match the other's tone but adding some huskiness. "But satisfaction brought it back." He moved his hips just enough to make slight contact and gave his patented Puck leer, then froze as the figure above him regarded him in absolute silence – he could not even feel any breath coming from the guy.

"Naughty," purred the smaller boy and pulled back. His finger trailed from Puck's mouth down his neck and along his side, stopping just above his waist where his shirt had pulled up exposing some bare skin. There his finger traced a small circle and sent instant shivers through Puck's body – he had never reacted so quickly to such a light touch. He had also never allowed himself to react so easily to another boy; control had been everything to Puck but he had lost it in a single moment.

Something niggled in the back of his mind and it wasn't his usual 'you cannot be gay' denial techniques – his aunt had helped him deal with that. No, this was something he had just forgotten but because of that he couldn't discern if it was important. Something about holes and clothing… and blood.

Soft chuckling brought him back to reality.

"Always wondered if you needed a firm hand or a really soft touch – now I know."

"What?"

The weight was suddenly gone as was the other boy. The police car was now entering the street but Puck still heard the whispered command like the other boy was speaking in his ear.

"Tell them nothing."

Apparently the cops weren't too interested in any case and were all too eager to wrap it up as a non-event.

As he finally arrived home Puck swore as he walked up to the front door. He had forgotten all about the OJ and lemonade – his sister would be pissed.

Then he saw the bag that shouldn't be there and sure enough inside it was a litre of pulp free juice and three cans of sprite.

Puck looked around the deserted yard but knew he would see nothing.

"See you soon," the voice whispered in the darkness and Puck smiled.

He hoped so.

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_**Kurt**_

Kurt Hummel strolled along the school hall and tried to control his utter contempt for this place;

The smell alone was unbearable, unwashed teenage bodies, out-of-control hormones, cheap chemical cleansers, stale cigarettes, beer… and that was just the main entry

– he didn't have to be here so why was he?

Oh yeah, blending in and all that.

He saw them coming and knew what they would do before they had even thought it. He could have easily dodged them, could have shouldered back… hell he could just tear their fucking throats out and then lap at that sweet rich red blood as it pumped over his hands and lips – the worst of them still capable of providing him the saccharine nourishment of their very life that he craved oh so very much. He turned away and stepped into the nearest room, forcing his bloodlust back under control and hoping no-one had seen him vamp-up.

One-on-one mind control was easy but groups were difficult – too many variables.

"Kurt?"

It was Finn, which was kind of awkward given Kurt's already rampaging preternatural impulses. Its not that he still 'liked' Finn in any real way but old habits and all that… and those damned lips. It was bad enough he had to live with him but usually he was a lot more stable than this.

He turned and realised he was in the bathroom – probably explained Finn's confusion since Kurt had not used the _male_ toilets since he was twelve.

"I'm fine Finn, just… sort of emergency." He went straight to a urinal and went through the motions – he knew Finn would never break guy code enough to actually check if he was peeing – because if he did he may just wonder why Kurt's eyes were suddenly black and surrounded by pulsating dark veins.

"Um, okay… I just didn't see you this morning and I um." Kurt could imagine the freakishly tall teen running a hand through his hair. Finn would never make a good poker player, too many tells. "I kind of know you were out most of the night and just wanted to know if everything was okay." It all came out in a rush and only thanks to Kurt's supernatural hearing did he understand it.

Great, he would have to mind fuck Finn… again. He hoped constant mind fucking didn't cause brain damage but then with Finn who would really know?

Before Finn knew it Kurt was looking into his eyes and telling him he _had_ been home, Finn was _mistaken_ and he should not take any _notice_ of Kurt's being home or not in the future. The slack jawed nod was really not that different than if he hadn't used his power and Kurt smiled to himself. It would be all too easy to tell Finn he was gay for Kurt and have his way – then blank him out the next day; you couldn't really make someone go against their nature but Kurt suspected Finn was higher on the Kinsey scale than he would admit. Tempting as it was it just wouldn't be worth it – too many possible complications and he had enough humanity left to know he would feel _some_ guilt. His new nature did allow him to push away any unwanted emotions but his maker had warned that when he did let them in again, and he would, they would hit ten times as hard.

So he let Finn go and went to wash his hands. He had not actually used the urinal but it was something he should probably still do, for appearances.

Since he was not alone.

"You can come out now Noah."

_**Puck**_

Puck peeked out from the cubicle and shrugged, not really caring that Hummel knew he was there.

"Dude, you have him like, totally whipped."

"Please," smiled Kurt as he spun around. "Frankenteen is inferior to me in every single way – he was whipped before we even met."

The Kurt Hummel before him was certainly different from the one he used to toss in dumpsters and Puck could not help but smile back, because he could admit the little guy had grown on him. Gone were the overly loud clothes and sparkly girly accessories – not even a man bag but an honest to god back pack. He still wore designer jeans but they were male ones and scuffed at the bottoms – something the old Kurt would never do, Puck was fairly certain of that. A charcoal black waistcoat covered what seemed to be just a regular cobalt blue shirt, opened at the collar and revealing quite an expanse of pale skin.

Maybe the dude was still smaller but only slightly and certainly no longer boyish, he had gained some height over break and by the looks some muscle, not bulk but the sleek kind – and there was just something about him that exuded manhood but Puck could not say how exactly.

"Two buttons Hummel, you been hanging around Santana too much."

Kurt smirked and fingered his open shirt, not even calling up Puck on the fact he was checking out another guy.

"Well I considered tearing the sleeves off and strutting round the place talking about the _pucker-guns of mass destruction_ but decided that was something only a level ten douche would do."

"Ouch Hummel, that actually made a dent – keep that up and I may end up respecting you."

"Can't wait to hear that line over breakfast," answered Kurt quick as a flash.

Before he thought it through Puck followed it up with, "That could be arranged."

Hummel just smiled and stalked up closer and Puck, for some reason he couldn't fathom, felt his stomach do that clenching thing and there was some kind of dull roaring in his head. He saw those blue eyes suddenly turn dark, veins of black streaked out and Kurt opened his mouth, revealing a set of perfect little fangs.

In a flash Puck was smashed against the stall wall, Kurt's head buried in his neck and pain flared as he felt his skin torn. He tried desperately to shove the guy off but Kurt's body was like stone and no matter how hard he strained he was stuck.

Nothing for it – the thought of calling for help was almost as painful as the thought of someone chewing on his neck.

He took a deep breath and prepared to yell when something really strange happened, at least even stranger than Kurt eating him.

The pain twisted into pleasure.

It started as warmth that spread from whatever Kurt was doing and in seconds went to all his erogenous zones. It also gave him an instant hard-on – his scream of pain became a moan of ecstasy. His own blood thudded in his ears, matched by another sound – similar to his own but slower and steadier.

He could actually hear and feel Kurt's heartbeat and it matched the throbbing of his lust.

"God... yes," he moaned again and Kurt pulled back to look at him – his mouth and teeth covered in blood.

"Interesting," Kurt growled out.

The roaring reached a crescendo and the world went blank.

The sun was out and Puck was eating with the other Gleeks in the outer courtyard. A bread-roll hit his head making him turn to the thrower – Mercedes.

"Are you listening Puckerbrain? Have-you-seen-Kurt-today?"

"Um," he thought hard, there was something on the edge of his awareness but the closer he got the more it slid away. Actually he had trouble thinking of anything that had happened today before this moment.

He absently rubbed at his neck, a half-forgotten itch he felt he needed to scratch.

"Nope, haven't seen him."

It was only after school when Quinn jumped into his passenger seat and fixed him with the _glare of perpetual doom_ that Puck considered that this day may just be up there as 'weird as shit ever' and yeah he knew he had to work on coming up with better names. Firstly he still could not recall anything prior to lunch and that meant either he had a head injury, had imbibed some really good drugs… or Finn's ability to go momentarily brain dead had finally rubbed off on him.

He mentally ticked off why it could be none of the above:

no head injury, he'd checked with the nurse (who had freaked that he was actually there for a medical reason).

He didn't do drugs, three beers per session was the limit he'd set this year.

Like you could really catch stupidity and like he would let Finn rub anything off on him?

That left something else and although that should worry him an inner voice told him to just let it go.

Another voice clearing reminded him of the glare drilling through his head.

"Yes my sweet," he said as sarcastically as he could and even came up with a smile free of any leer – it was the least he could do for the mother of his child.

"You said you'd wait at the steps… yet here I find you not only late but seemingly about to drive off without me."

Right, and exactly when had he said this alleged thing? He probably should have asked but instead shrugged and started the car; only as it was warming up did he turn to Quinn.

"So? Was I taking you somewhere?"

"Are you kidding me!" she almost screamed. "Does the term 'post-natal check-up' ring a bell or did you think your responsibility to me stopped once your spawn was expelled from my womb?"

His expression must have been enough to tell her she was being harsh and Quinn touched his arm. "Sorry, just been a bad day. I thought things might go back to normal once I... once we gave up _our_ daughter – but it seems I am the same social pariah post pregs." She went on to rant about her day of being harassed by, as she put it, frumpy Cheerios and Neanderthal jocks who only a year ago worshipped the ground she walked on.

As they pulled out of the parking lot Puck smiled. Quinn had matured but he was glad she still had that spark that had attracted him in the first place – he could really only respect a partner if they had a lust for life similar to his own, otherwise he got bored real quick. While he and Quinn were now firmly in the 'only friends' department it was a relief she had not lost that passion, even better she now tempered it with a good dose of realism, and he was especially amused to hear her use the term Neanderthal, just the way Kurt would.

His mind wandered as his own words went around and around at the thought of Kurt.

Respect.

Lust.

Passion.

Kurt.

Why did these make him want to remember something but it was just out of his grasp? There was also a flash of dark eyes and blood filled lips and… teeth.

And Kurt?

Puck shook his head – too long without sex was making him hallucinate.

"-and they're calling him the Lima Leopard."

"Wait, what?" When had she changed subjects and what the hell was a Lima Leopard?

"Ugh, its like we're married – you never listen to a word I say." He saw her grin and knew he wasn't actually in trouble this time. "Its all over the local news. Some guy is beating up all the criminals and last night a woman was saved when he stopped some thugs about to rape her – she said he moved so quick he looked like a cat on some nature show… so they're now calling him the Leopard, and he's mostly been cleaning up crime here in Lima so-."

"Lima Leopard, yeah I get it."

Shit, it had to be the same guy. Normally Puck would be bursting to tell Quinn and anyone else who would listen that he had met this dude – but the urge just wasn't there.

"I wonder if he wears a uniform, like a superhero you know," Quinn mused. "Bet he's really hot and fills out a pair of tights just," she made a suggestive motion with her hands, "Right."

Puck thought about those legs clamped over his own and the strength he had felt in them. He hummed in agreement; the guy _would_ look good in tights and had still looked damn good in black jeans.

Silence from his passenger made him glance over and Quinn was giving him the strangest look.

"I'm sure he doesn't wear tights, that would be really… you know," he explained lamely and she just nodded with eyes a little wide.

"This is it," she said, pointing at the clinic. As she got out and leaned back in her smile had returned. "Mom's gonna pick me up so thanks for the lift."

"No problems, I could come in-."

"No, that's alright… Noah."

"Huh," he studied his hands nervously before talking rather quietly. "You don't normally call me that."

Nobody calls him that except his mother and… Kurt – the name brought all those visions back again.

"I think you came back from break more Noah than Puck."

"I don't know what that means."

"Sure you do." She leaned all the way in and pecked his cheek. "Thank you Noah, I'll call you later 'kay."

He waited until she had entered the clinic before driving off and once home called her Mom just to ensure Quinn was being picked up. As the evening came along he couldn't help thinking about today.

The things Quinn had said.

His thoughts about Kurt.

His meeting the Leopard. For an instant he wondered if they were connected then laughed at the thought of Kurt taking on criminals. The kid could barely fight a cold let alone thugs, but still… the thought of Kurt in a tight black-knit superhero outfit was strangely erotic and Puck chuckled at his own musings.

His aunt and her frank assessment of his poor life choices had a lot to answer for – especially as she had been spot on the mark.

Night had fallen and Puck felt a cold breeze across his chest – he had been laying on his bed in a singlet all this time and forgotten about the time. He sat up to close the window and froze.

Outlined against the streetlight was a dark figure standing motionless on the front lawn.

"I need your help," rasped the Leopard and Puck grinned.

Looked like he was going to have some fun tonight after-all.

Tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_**Kurt**_

Damn it all to hell in a Gucci knock-off handbag!

Kurt threw the newspaper on the kitchen table and swore a string of words, some in languages he was not sure he even knew.

He thought he had properly blanked the woman's memory but obviously got something wrong – now the whole town knew about him. Well not exactly who and what he was but it would make people start taking more notice.

He would have to be extra careful. He may be fast and strong and could heal from almost any wound but he was also very alone in this.

Losing one's humanity was a traumatic experience but he had decided soon after that he wasn't going to spiral into decadence and lethargy – he had been given a power he never thought possible, an ability to change the world around him. A few criminals in small town wasn't a big start but he definitely had time on his side.

He hadn't asked for it – but Hummels did not give up.

Of course immortality came with drawbacks; like having to be invited into your own house – luckily his father had made it easy by just saying 'get your ass in here' when Kurt had stood at the door looking forlorn after his summer trip. It was not exactly the traditional invitation to enter but whatever supernatural power controlled such things obviously relied on the intent of the invite rather than the wording.

Blood was the other difficulty but that had been solved with a lockable fridge hidden in the back of his closet. Few were brave enough to enter his closet in any case and he was careful to stuff the blood bags into milkshake containers marked 'Kurt's Special Organic Wheat-grass & health drink'. On the off chance that someone in the house actually made it past the closet and lock there was no way they would touch something so obviously and disgustingly good for you.

If they did Kurt would have to mind fuck them.

Thankfully he had not needed to do anything to his Dad yet – that would really drive the guilt into overdrive.

Carol needed a push now and then to ignore his lack of eating solids (he could if he wanted but all food tasted like cardboard) but since she had not got to know him too well prior to summer she hadn't noticed any odd changes in his behaviour.

Finn was another story.

Before this Kurt would have said that they had reached a pretty good middle ground of friendship and burgeoning step-brotherhood – once Finn had accepted Kurt wasn't crushing on him anymore. God that was embarrassing and Kurt still cringed inside at the memory of it. Finn though, Finn obviously had taken an almost unhealthy notice of Kurt without Kurt even realising it.

His first night back Finn noticed that Kurt had not slept a wink – downside of sharing a room. No mind fucking needed there – he just told Frankenteen that Virginia was in another time-zone and he was jetlagged.

He bought it.

Now Kurt _could_ sleep – he was no Edwardian vampire, but he just didn't need to for a full eight hours every day.

Other lapses though were not so easy.

Finn catching Kurt having a midnight milkshake – blood dripping from bent straw.

Eyes

Focus

Mind-fuck

Lifting car clear of the ground one-handed to retrieve dropped iPhone.

Eyes

Focus

Mind-fuck

Sitting at the bottom of the pool to see how long he could stay without air – apparently indefinitely but Finn was about to dive in to 'save' him.

Eyes

Take away Finn's phone before he called the ambulance

Focus

Mind-fuck

Finn finding his bullet-hole ridden shirt, blood included (he had apparently been going to do Kurt's washing as a favour)

Eyes

Focus

Mind-fuck and include order to never touch clothes hamper again!

Sunday brunch with Brittany... well she did taste like croissants.

Eyes

Focus

Mind-fuck

The list went on. Finn just had this knack of catching Kurt out and at times Kurt considered turning him just to stop the frustration and having to see that jaw going slack and the blank look of 'yes Kurt'. But vampirism could not cure stupidity and Kurt did not want to be stuck with _that_ for eternity.

He put on his Leopard clothes, then laughed at himself. Now he was calling himself the Leopard! A name for what he was doing had never really occurred to Kurt, he had assumed he would always remain in the shadows. Not in the twenty-first century it would seem.

Studying his reflection in the mirror – and yes that had been a welcome surprise. How would you ever fix make-up and hair without a reflection? His vampire nature meant he no longer required any extra help for a flawless complexion but hair was still important – and fashion, to a degree.

Gone were the clothes that made him stand out. He had not regressed to his 'hetero-crisis' days like last term but had found a happy medium, styled somewhat on, and he paused to shake his head at the irony, Puck of all people. Yes the guy was a Neanderthal and yes he was overly machismo and all that but somehow he exuded a personal style that combined showing off his best assets while seemingly not putting effort into his clothing.

If a football jock could do it so could Kurt, with a few improvements.

His school attire was one thing but his night activity wear required another level of low-key. Black on black was usually a total fashion faux-pas but with the right material and use of leather belt and combat boots Kurt felt he had it right.

One thing he could not change was his stature. He would now be gracile for life, or un-life… for the rest of his earthly existence. The woman had provided a very good description so the criminals, and probably the goons he was after tonight, would be wary of someone of small stature dressed in black and all alone.

He needed someone else.

Kurt smiled at himself in the mirror as the perfect candidate came to mind.

_**Puck**_

Puck risked another peek at the Leopard beside him in the car. He had been totally unable to discern any facial features and this time it was because as well as the hood he wore black cloth over his mouth and nose. The material was the same tight black-knit as his hooded jacket – Puck's eyes also kept checking out the guy's chest but he couldn't work out why.

He did not have glasses on but his eyes were so dark all Puck ever saw was a glint of reflected light like moonlight off a pond – it was as if this Leopard's eyes were all iris (Puck had paid attention in biology – like most classes he just had to pretend he hadn't).

The guy barely moved except to point out a change in direction or shift to look down a side street.

"So," ventured Puck. "Apart from being your driver this evening how exactly am I going to help you?"

Puck had to keep his face turned forward but he felt the other's eyes roam across his body and he shivered ever so slightly at the sensation. He was used to being ogled, he put a lot of work into looking good – but this was more than that. It was an inspection, a weighing up of his worth.

It made Puck feel equal part dirty and thrilled.

"You're the bait," stated the Leopard flatly and without further explanation.

"Bait," muttered Puck. "Great, 'cause that always ends well."

Instead of going to the poorer end of the commercial district Puck was directed near the nightclub area – made sense, more crime probably occurred here at night anyway.

As he parked at the back of an abandoned gas station Puck risked putting a hand on the Leopard's shoulder. The dude did not flinch or pull away but did look at the hand as if it was something he had never seen. Puck snatched it back; maybe that had been too far but…

"Listen," he said, maybe too loud now the engine was off. "Its just – I didn't argue when you asked for help, but if I am risking my life tonight I should at least know your name."

Those eyes again, orbs of blackness and for a moment Puck felt a familiar roar in his mind but it faded as soon as it had begun.

"That's a fair request." His voice, still too deep for the body had that aspect that sent Puck's stomach broiling – he was beginning to imagine himself a twelve year old girl with his first crush – so utterly not the Puckzilla he should be.

"Damon."

"But that's not your real name."

The figure shrugged indifferently. "You could say it's a family name."

"Uh huh." Puck got out and the Leopard, or Damon if he preferred, joined him.

Vapour escaped Puck's mouth in the crisp night air but he noticed that none came from Damon. He was about to mention it when Damon turned those eyes on him again.

"So do I just call you 'Bait'?"

"Um," Puck chuckled at the thought and the fact it sounded hot in some totally kinky way. "I figured you know who I am."

"Ah," sighed Damon and circled around him, a gloved hand splayed across Puck's chest as he almost whispered. "But what name do you want me to use?"

"Pu-." Puck smiled a little at how quickly he almost answered but thought of his earlier conversation with Quinn – and the situation he was finding himself in. "Noah… call me Noah."

"As you wish… Noah." The eyes twinkled in merriment and Puck wondered when he started using words like merriment to describe another guy's eyes.

"So Damon, what're we doin' – gonna bust some street gang?"

Damon laughed, stepped back and looked Puck up and down in that critical manner and Puck couldn't help feel it was a little familiar.

"Like I said, bait. Kind of what you normally do but with one minor difference."

Puck figured that 'minor difference' was something he was really going to regret.

Tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Stupid Damon and his stupid hypnotic eyes – sure Puck knew he could not have actually been hypnotized with one look but how else could he explain so easily agreeing to this.

Sitting at a table and leaning back showing off his guns _was_ something he was very good at doing – but not near midnight in this dingy park with nothing but a flickering yellowed lamp to hold back the shadows.

Not-really-his-style.

He saw them coming and for the first time in his life really began to understand how his former victims at school felt. He saw it in the group's collective swagger and he could sense the menace they exuded and worst of all the knowledge he could not escape them. Well he could but he said he would stay – would be the bait.

The kids at school, they could run but they rarely did – did they resign themselves to the fact it would happen?

That it was inevitable?

The laughing cut out as the group divided and surrounded Puck on the bench. No-one said a thing but the threat was apparent.

Puck looked from one to the other of the two in front. "Let me guess," he drawled, trying to act nonchalant. "Burt," he pointed to one, then the other. "And Ernie."

The two goons looked at each other and shrugged not knowing what Puck was saying.

"See," explained Puck, turning to the ones behind him. "That's the problem with our society – education begins at home and if you'd watched Sesame Street you'd be more accepting of gay roomies."

"What the fuck did you say?" uttered the bigger of the two, his hair shaved closer than Puck's.

"I said" said Puck softly and jumped up into the guys face. "Self hate's a bitch."

He slammed the guy in the nose and watched in satisfaction as he went down screaming. From there it became a general melee.

Even on a normal day Puck would take on multiple opponents – sure a half dozen was pushing the envelope but he trusted his back-up would jump in any moment.

A fist hit his kidney, pushing him to his knees.

"Anytime now," he muttered and swung an elbow, feeling a satisfactory crunch of the attackers kneecap collapsing.

Two others grabbed him from behind as the first guy he hit stood in front, blood running from his nose.

"You're gonna pay for that faggot."

The first punch Puck shrugged off – he'd had worse on the football field. The name though… there was a twinge in his chest as he fully realised it was directed at him.

That was a first.

Crack! The second hit caught him across the cheek and he saw stars for second – this guy was building a rhythm and Puck knew each hit would get stronger.

"Fucking cock-sucker."

Smash! This time they got his nose and he immediately felt the blood flowing, once again he'd had worse but the anger and something else within him he couldn't quite put a name to built as each new slur was thrown his way.

"Poofter!"

Fist to his jaw.

"Fag boy."

Knuckles cracked over his eye socket.

The obvious leader of the group put his face into Puck's but all Puck could do was grin through bloodied teeth.

"Had enough nancy boy or do you want some more lessons?"

Puck head butted him.

As the guy fell back Damon finally joined the fray. There was a grunt behind him and then Puck saw two then a third body flung up and over into the bushes – their screams suddenly ending in dull thuds. In a flutter of black Damon was in front, holding the remaining two in each hand and lifting both off the ground – before slamming them together with a clack of skulls. He absently dropped them before looking at Puck.

A streak of light caught Damon just right and Puck could see the black veins pulsating around eyes as dark as the anger Puck was feeling.

"You mother-fucker!" screamed Puck, moving his jaw and tenderly touching his eye as it already started to puff out. "You wait 'til I'm beaten bloody before you stop them!"

Damon's whole posture froze like a damned statue, but his strange features did not lessen in intensity. "You bitch and complain, yet live." He tilted his head in a very confused human way. "I don't understand the problem?"

"This!" Puck pointed at his eye.

"Oh, poor baby," growled Damon and was close enough to sweep a gloved finger over it.

Puck's good eye twitched in consternation.

That should have hurt yet all he felt was a feather-light cool touch that sent strange sensation up his spine. Also it was a dude touching him! Well, maybe not quite human but a guy none-the-less; yes he knew it was something he wanted but had been unprepared for how it would exactly feel.

"And this," Puck said a little more softly, pointing at his nose.

The veins around Damon's eyes receded a little as he lowered his face guard with one hand while brushing two fingers down Puck's very tender nose. Again it did not create any pain but actually seemed to take some away.

"Here," mumbled Puck, pouting a little like he had seen Santana do so successfully as he lifted his clothing to reveal the ugly bruise forming around his kidney.

Damon made a show of removing one glove before placing a hand over the spot; his hand cold – almost like an ice-pack to the inflamed area. His hand remained in place and Puck tried to see any more facial features this close but it was if a mist of black sat around Damon's face – only his eyes visible.

"The first punch kind of hit my," he put a finger tip to his bottom lip; it didn't hurt but what the hell.

Puck saw the last of the veins fade and the eyes actually showed colour for the first time, a flash of grey-blue. He caught a hint of smiling thin lips before Damon pulled him forward – Puck's bigger size and weight no match for the Leopard's strength. Those lips crashed onto his own and that shiver up his spine became a full blown electric charge that arced through his entire body.

They fought for dominance; tongues clashed and Puck could not believe he moaned first.

This was new.

The texture, the taste.

Nothing like a girl and not exactly what he expected of a man.

He wanted more.

His back was on the table without him knowing how it happened and the lithe body above him held Puck firmly in place. The Leopard pulled back but his face remained just out of focus; except for those eyes that went quite blue for a moment before flashing to black and the veins pumped out, stronger than before.

"Wha-."

Puck's question was cut short as he saw Damon's mouth open and two fangs appear, then Damon buried himself in Puck's neck – the sharp pain mixed with ecstasy the last thing before Puck's awareness faded.

Puck awoke on his own porch, slouched in the sun-chair – the chill of what had to be after-midnight air breezing across his chest.

Memories flooded back – the Lima Leopard, the gang of ass-hats, the punches he took… it faded after that except Puck was sure he had copped quite a beating. He quickly went inside and snuck past his mother, sleeping on the couch with a half empty bottle of vodka still clutched in her hand. Normally Puck would stop to check on her but he went straight to the bathroom and flicked on the light.

A face free of bruising or injury stared back at him. He touched his nose, his cheek and lifted his shirt.

Nothing, not even a blemish.

Had it even happened?

Something on his neck caught Puck's eyes and he leaned in, twisting slightly. There was just the tiniest twin set of red dots with a hint of bruising around the area.

He knew he should be able to know how that happened but whenever he concentrated too hard on remembering anything after the fight his thoughts just evaporated.

"Noah Puckerman" he whispered to his reflection. "What the fuck have you got yourself into?"

_**Kurt**_

Sitting on the couch in the darkness Kurt allowed the stillness of the house to settle in to his body – he slowly became more part of the furniture than a living being. In his mind he snorted while his features went cold and lifeless. This part of being a vampire Damon had not told him about – Kurt had named it 'falling to the void' because it felt a bit like that. His body functions completely slowed, his skin became like ice and not a muscle so much as twitched.

His mind however kicked up a notch, like all his energy went from physical to mental – he had slipped into a deep dark hole while his body remained in the real world. In this state he could expand his inner awareness and examine every action and every word from the previous day in minute detail; like being able to pause and see his memories frame by frame. He had been busy but only one thing took his focus: one Noah Puckerman.

Bully

Jock

Neanderthal

Except he wasn't. Not now and maybe not really before. Sure he had bullied Kurt and those like him but there were lines he never crossed.

Puck had never hit him, except for an overenthusiastic shove.

He had never actually thrown him in a dumpster, more like tossed gently and somehow the dumpster never had anything sharp or dangerous.

Names Puck had called him; so many names over many years but some had not escaped those lips – gay and queer yeah but never faggot or poofter, at least not with the hate so often attached by others.

Puck was different since school had started back up, not 'Kurt' different but he had changed – hopefully for the better. He hadn't hassled anyone nor had he been hanging around the normal football crowd. It was strange but Puck was keeping a low profile – something Kurt had never expected from the self-styled king stud of McKinley High.

Then he had not hesitated to help Kurt, well help the Leopard, but since when did Puck willingly do something for someone else without some kind of self-interest?

The kissing and the touching? Kurt's mind chuckled – that hadn't changed. He was almost certain Puck got horny at the crack of dawn, a little neck and tickle action was hardly surprising regardless of gender. Puck may not be waving any rainbow flags along the school halls but he was more likely to join the Lima Ladies Knitting Circle than say no to sex.

For all Puck's recent rise to almost respectability in Kurt's eyes he was still the jock who had tormented him for years. He may be slightly more bearable and still very delectable but Puck had needed a lesson in being the underdog. His intention was to allow the bashing to go a lot further – his vampirism craved it, the pain and the blood of another's torment. He didn't want Puck dead but a little suffering was hardly inexcusable given their history.

Then he had seen Puck's face when that goon had called him those names.

It hadn't just been anger but regret and shame with every ugly word.

The same kind of shame that Kurt knew all too well.

So he stopped it... and then he started something else.

Damn Puck and his sexy 'come fuck me' eyes and rock hard abs and... fuck it!

Even with blood spread across Puck's face Kurt's vampiric nature had receded, his human form taking over as they kissed – well briefly.

He was lusting for Noah Puckerman and human or vampire Kurt could not resist the temptation.

"Kurt?"

Light flared and Kurt's dead eyes opened to see Finn standing before him.

"You look like a fucking corpse!" said the teen, his face showing his horror.

Shit! Shouted Kurt in his head then grabbed Finn by his shoulders.

"Finn, look into my eyes."

_**Puck**_

"All right everyone," said Mr Shuester and Puck smirked as the usual half groans occurred as the Glee club saw their teacher's obvious enthusiasm – which could only mean one thing.

"I have an assignment for you – holidays and change, what you did on break and how has it changed you for this term. Pick a song, do it in groups or solos – its like show and tell but with song and dance."

His smile was far too wide and his request a little loose from the normal structure designed to teach lessons. Puck reasoned that Mr Shue was getting some – and if he wasn't mistaken a certain nervous guidance counsellor was involved.

"Noah."

Puck looked next to him as Kurt spoke. He was wearing no waistcoat today – although Puck didn't know why he thought about Kurt and a waistcoat, instead a rather figure hugging long-sleeved v-neck shirt that showed Kurt must have put in some serious training recently judging by his muscle definition. The usual worn jeans and converse cross-trainers finished off what should have been a very un-Kurt like outfit. Yet it worked and seemed somewhat familiar although Puck could not put his finger on why.

"I believe that you and I Mr Puckerman were the only ones here who managed to escape our little hamlet this summer... perhaps we can work on this together?"

"You? Me?" Puck pointed at himself and felt his eyes go wide. "You hate me!"

Kurt watched him like he was waiting for Puck to say more and when he didn't a victory smile appeared on the little diva's face – although calling him little didn't really fit anymore since they were basically eye-to-eye and while slimmer Kurt was holding himself in a manner that spoke of confidence and strength.

Not usual Kurt body language but Puck liked it.

"While it is true you have many undesirable qualities Noah," Kurt looked him up and down as only the male diva seemed capable of doing while filing down a fingernail. "Hate... is not a word I prescribe to and I believe the two of us can set an example by showing that 'New Directions' is more than just a name."

"Uh huh," muttered Puck, his suspicion simmering. He considered himself the most devious, cunning and possibly intelligent male here...

excepting Kurt Hummel.

Prior to the whole melding of the Hummel/Hudson families he would have put Kurt beneath himself but that had been an act of pure genius and manipulation that Puck secretly admired. Sure he had not won the guy – but Puck believed it was closer than Finn would ever admit. So if Kurt was now trying to manipulate him – he had to consider the why. Sure, he was Puck and guy or gal who wouldn't want a piece of that? But he also recognised that Kurt wasn't shallow enough to go for looks alone – and Puck had been a jerk to the boy for years.

Checking that no-one was close enough to hear their conversation Puck leaned over trying to be intimidating but Kurt's unfazed expression showed he had failed miserably. "What's your angle Hummel, you want a bit of this," he kissed his own bicep and Kurt smiled without looking at him, his gaze on his own damned shiny nails but he said nothing so Puck continued. "You don't need to work so hard – Puckasaurus is an omnivore and takes all fare that's offered."

Kurt threw his head back and laughed loudly, not mockingly – more like Puck had truly amused him. The other Glee-clubbers looked over and while Kurt seemed completely unfazed by the attention a steady gaze of Puck dissuaded further interest.

Wiping an invisible tear from his eye Kurt finally sniffed and matched the stare Puck was now sending him.

"Perhaps Puckasaurus isn't picky but Kurtera_tops_," Kurt gave a leer better than Puck thought possible as he lingered on the 'tops'. "Prefers the build up and intensity of the hunt... prior to the kill."

Puck felt himself actually blush and had to adjust himself at the sudden blood-rush to his groin.

"Hummel," he said huskily as his eyes darkened in lust. "Name a time and place."

Tbc...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Puck**

He'd been made to wait.

Him!

Puck growled at the audacity of the little runt but then immediately grinned at the excitement of anticipating a sexual conquest… although actually who was the conquest was getting a little fuzzy.

Kurt had specified that it be his place, on his timetable and he would decide how far things went.

Then he'd said it would have to be tomorrow because he had a shopping trip planned for tonight. In Puck's world shopping could never ever trump sex! But Kurt was different – he'd probably never had sex so didn't know what he was missing. Puck's confidence told him that after tomorrow night Kurt would re-evaluate the importance of shopping.

Slinging his school books into the corner Puck glanced at himself in the mirror and once more studied the marks on his neck. They were so tiny no-one had noticed and if they had they probably thought Puck had cornered some Cheerio in the janitor's closet. Rubbing a finger over them Puck lost himself in the non-memory. He knew something had happened, something important but once more the memory eluded him.

Maybe he couldn't remember getting those marks but he was smart enough to deduce a possibility, if you could call it that.

The Lima Leopard was too quick and too strong to be simply human.

Puck had been hanging out with the Lima Leopard.

Puck had twin marks on his neck… kind of like tiny bites.

Splashing water on his face and watching his own face for a reaction Puck muttered to himself. "He can't be a vampire, vampires aren't real dumb ass."

The marks didn't hurt but did get hot now and then.

"But what if he is?" he argued, then mentally slapped himself. "Fuck me, all I need is a furry friend and I'm in a fucking tweeny movie."

Dark jeans

Combat boots

Navy pull-over

Easy, he thought and rolled up the arms of the pull-over. Something told him he'd be going out and although he still wished Kurt had made it tonight the Lima Leopard came in a close second – and there was still the possibility of sex!

Yes sir, his kind of flirty sexy to and fro with Kurt had his old fire rekindled. Puck knew he'd been running on fumes since the break and this was exactly what he needed to get back in the game.

Kurt Hummel wanted him.

Kind of, or at least was willing to suggest it.

The Lima Leopard wanted him.

In a totally creepy possibly vampiric way.

No, Puck shook his head at the path he was going thinking like that. Before babygate and before Glee he had been wanted, needed and he loved every second of it. Sure his priorities had changed but that didn't mean he had to live like a monk. His aunt had been very clear – he kept making bad choices because he thought there was no choice at all.

His choice to seduce his best friend's girl.

His choice to bully and destroy the lives of others.

His choice to hold onto a reputation that was a prison of his own making.

He didn't have to be that guy, because that guy…

Was his father.

One thought of his Mom and sister told him that way was sure to destroy the people he loved; so some tweaking was required. He didn't need to become a boy-scout but it wouldn't hurt to be a little more thoughtful, a little more caring – and maybe just try and repair the damage he had done.

His friendship with Finn – fixed, kind of. Well they had seen a lot more of each other and Puck could tell that Finn's passive anger towards him was coming down fast. Wouldn't be long before they were best buds again, hopefully better than before.

Quinn seemed to have accepted their former lover-now friendship status. Of course telling her he may kind of not be entirely fully straight allowed her to be the one who ended it – yes it made him a coward but it had also given Quinn the power back in their relationship… by becoming his best friend instead of his girlfriend.

Was he gay now? Maybe, probably and okay most likely yes. Certainly he had not slept with any women since he'd left for the holidays – not that celibacy made him gay, that was more Hummel's way of being queer. He'd tried with one of his aunt's friends but he had politely knocked Puck back, spoken with his aunt and next thing you know Puck was in some kind of female plus one slightly older gay dude fuelled Oprah-like intervention. He'd heard of gay people being forced to go back in but a bunch of Jewish neo-hippy chicks (plus the one gay dude) telling him he obviously had a thing for cock if he loved his best bud so much he had to sleep with his girlfriend to get closer to him and bang every other female to justify some need for an absent daddy's approval.

Just fucked up.

Of course, they were right.

He hadn't really thought about the daddy thing but he'd known he had feelings for Finn since sixth grade.

"Bloody hippies," he muttered, remembering the group just laughing at his denials and calling him sweetie and honey and telling him, as only Jewish women can, that they were right, he was wrong and to man up and accept it.

Puck was not into angst. So he did what they said. He allowed half a day self pity then accepted it.

Deciding what to do took longer. His aunt took pity on him and said nothing had to happen immediately. But she did expect an improvement in grades, no more bullying and he had to repair what he'd broken. Once he was happier with the man he was, she said, the rest would fall into place. Its not like he had to change and become something he was not. Puck was still… well he was still a stud, still incredible awesome and the hottest guy in Lima and _liked_ being surly and grumpy at times.

Its not like he really owed anyone.

Although, how many lives had he hurt, the bullying and the name calling? The dumpster dives and just general intimidation of anything that threatened his standing had a flow on effect; he may not do those things anymore but others did by his example. That would have to change… tomorrow.

Tonight.

A knock on the door made him grin.

Tonight it was time to give a little back.

**Kurt**

Smirking at Puck during class had been fun; making him uncomfortable with just a brush of his arm – hilarious. Now Kurt wasn't being cruel – he fully intended to become intimate with the jock at some point, but before that there was this. He may be a vampire but his life experience was still that of a teenage boy – a teenage gay boy who had never, until the summer holidays, been intimate with anyone.

And look how that ended up.

Some kissing and groping followed by alcohol fuelled sleazy sex in a dusty old mansion in the back-blocks of a town smaller than Lima. Somehow he had agreed to let the guy bite him and to be fair Kurt had bitten back – thinking it was fun and kinky in a naive kind of way. Surprisingly the blood actually tasted good – which should have been Kurt's first warning, he'd seen enough stupid teen vampire stories to know better.

But who knew the bloodsuckers were actually real?

Next thing you know Kurt had 'accidently' been staked by a well-meaning vampire hunter – he missed his heart (amateur apparently) but being that Kurt had still been human the wound kind of ended up killing him.

The vampire who had seduced him, Damon Salvatore (and yes the name by itself had been seductive), had not intended for Kurt to die, and therefore turn – but as a century old blood-sucker he still felt honour bound to help Kurt out. Teach him the tricks, get him to drink some human blood to properly turn him and even gave him a ring that protected vampires from sunlight.

Thank god he didn't sparkle – how would he ever manage a wardrobe to match that skin tone?

Once he was ready Kurt returned to at least finish out high school. He would need to lead a 'somewhat' normal human life for a few decades to establish an identity and a legitimate 'on paper' bloodline. Damon had said with technology and bureaucracy vampires would find it increasingly hard to hide in the shadows unless they had a legal identity. His decision to fight crime had not meant to bring him close to Noah Puckerman – but there it was.

So what was this? He and Puck were building towards something but Kurt couldn't see it being anything more than a bit of fun and some hot sex, which he was somewhat reluctant to engage in since strangely it was Puck who seemed to be taking it more seriously than himself.

It was as if the guy was looking for a relationship rather than quick screw. Kurt had assimilated many things of late but a Puck who wanted to get serious with anyone, let alone another guy? That was harder to believe than being undead.

Few others noticed any difference in their behaviour. Puck still called him names like fairy-dust and princess but where before they had an edge it was now more like a term of endearment – at least to Kurt's enhanced hearing. For his part Kurt snarked at Puck, criticised his fashion choices (which if anyone noticed had indeed improved and between them Puck and Kurt were wearing similar clothing) and still called him a Neanderthal. If Puck gave a secret smile when Kurt teased him then maybe only Kurt saw it – if a hand brushed his backside 'accidentally' at lunch Puck was just being clumsy. Their practice sessions even involved actual singing and choreography. Sure Puck kept trying to make a move and Kurt made it seem he would allow it, before finding he was late for dinner or shopping or some easily manufactured excuse.

It should've started to wear Puck down and at times Kurt pondered if he'd teased too long but Puck was nothing if not determined – the more Kurt evaded the more Puck persevered. He actually started putting effort into their performance until Kurt, for the first time since his turning, started to believe he himself may still have a passion for music. He could lower his range better with his vampirism but resisted – Puck knew how the Lima Leopard sounded and if Kurt lowered too many octaves Puck wasn't stupid… he was no Finn. Luckily they had picked a song that he could perform in the high range... and he hadn't needed to mind-fuck Puck to make him agree; one look at the lyrics and a play-through of the original and the jock was on board.

He was also kind of impressed that Puck had been helping him… well the Lima Leopard, almost every night and still managed to attend all classes and Glee. Added to that Puck was coming around home to hang out with Finn – the two must have patched up their friendship if the shouts over their X-box game-play were anything to go by. At first Kurt had thought it another ploy to win him over, pretend to visit Finn then seduce Kurt in his own home. Instead Puck actually was determined to focus attention on Finn and it was obvious from Finn's improved moods that he was stoked to have his best friend back. During Glee Finn and Puck were once again nattering away and fist bumping, causing Quinn and Rachel to roll their eyes and mutter about 'boys' – all to the amusement of Kurt who found he could watch everything going on from across the room and hear even the most whispered comment.

Of course, saying few noticed the interaction between Puck and Kurt meant that it didn't go entirely unseen.

Unfortunately the one who noticed was not a friend and definitely not someone who would leave it alone.

"Hey fag!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. He had smelt them from across the change room and this close he had to wrinkle his nose as the odour hit him.

Cigarettes

Alcohol

Unwashed body parts

Anger

Fear

Turning to the speaker, and not caring what his name was or that the room was full of other jocks Kurt prepared to mind-fuck the guy into oblivion; by the end of the day he would be prancing around the school in nothing but tinfoil and a purple jock-strap.

"Don't think we haven't noticed you sniffing after Puck you sick fuck, we're gonna – urgh!"

The guy was slammed into the lockers by another body, one Noah Puckerman who didn't spare him another glance but slung an arm around Kurt's shoulder. "Hey Hummel, I'm thinking song practice trumps math right now."

"What the hell Puckerman, you got it on with this fairy now?" Kurt was pretty sure it was Karofsky but his rage was building and it was hard to focus.

"Well to be honest I've been trying but he's one tough nut to crack you know," Puck's hand clenched into Kurt's shoulder, holding him in place like he knew Kurt was about to go rampage on their asses. It was enough to check his bloodlust, though he could've easily thrown Puck clear, hearing him honestly talk about being sexual with another guy was a bit dumb-founding. Puck had said it with humour and most of the guys would take it that way but still having him admit in front of these guys was a whole other world view.

"Why, you losers got a problem with it?" demanded Puck, his own anger oozing through his words and making it clear that maybe he wasn't just kidding around with the gay kid. The team may have not been afraid of Kurt but Puck's challenge stopped most of the simmering hate in the room. Kurt could see some players throw up their hands and make a quick exit. Unfortunately the core group of knuckleheads remained.

"Like we told Hummel – be a fag all you like but not around us." This time it was definitely Karofsky and Kurt glared at the boy, using all his control not to zip across and tear open his jugular.

A hand on his neck brought him face to face with Puck, who just shook his head slightly. "Trust me," he whispered and turned back to the players.

"You sayin' I'm off the team?"

Karofsky shrugged and made a show of cracking his knuckles. "One faggot we could deal with, the nancy can actually kick – but two… fuck Puckerman, you ain't that good anyways – always knew at heart you were just a mommas boy," he turned to the others, smirking at his own humour. "Not surprising really – daddy pissed off so you only know how to be a lady." He made a curtsy and Kurt heard Puck actually growl – Karofsky knew how to hit where it hurts.

"Allow me," said Kurt softly, this time being the one to hold Puck back. "You get rid of Noah, you get rid of me," he said loudly to the whole room.

"Hoorah – that's meant to stop us?" said Karofsky incredulously. Maybe he didn't care but Kurt could see several of his team-mates hesitate, probably realising that without Kurt and Puck their chances of winning anything was slim.

He could use that. "Well," continued Kurt demurely and firmly putting his hand against Puck's chest he moved forward towards the bully. "It goes without saying that my new baby brother will also have to quit… as a show of family solidarity."

Karofsky just looked confused until one of the other guys muttered, "He means Finn dickhead."

"Fine," snarled Karofsky. "All the shirt-lifters can just fuck off and we'll finally have our team back."

Kurt laughed and put his face in the other's, quickly checking that Puck remained behind, because he knew things were about to go bad. Kurt sniffed right at Karofsky's chest and made a disgusted face. "Thank god – this stench of failure," he waved his hand up and down Karofsky's body in his best diva fashion. "Is so not the look I was going for this year."

"You fucking shit," yelled Karofsky and swung.

He was so slow Kurt didn't even need to use his preternatural speed to block the punch and twist his arm, Karofsky yelped and went down to his knees.

"Pathetic," Kurt almost spat. "To think the highlight of your football year will be on your knees before me," he got in close. "The resident fag."

"Kurt," Puck's voice spoke softly in his ear, how he'd approached so quietly Kurt didn't know. "Chill, he's a complete lame ass but let the dude go."

Kurt twisted Karofsky's hand just a little bit more and the jock screeched in pain. "Why?" Kurt asked, looking sideways at Puck. "Would he show me mercy – you think he won't come after us?"

"Just," Puck's hand covered his own. "Let it go…" he flicked his eyes around the room. "We're kind of outnumbered."

"They're nothing to me," hissed Kurt, almost allowing himself to vamp up.

"But they are to me," whispered Puck just for Kurt's ears and in Puck's eyes Kurt could see he meant it. He wasn't putting them before Kurt, but he probably was still friends with at least a few of them and Puck was smart enough to think ahead – today was just one fight, the real battle would be winning over the rest of the school, they couldn't beat them all up.

"Fine," and he released Karofsky. "But just so you know-."

Suddenly Karofsky lunged, a knife appeared in his hand and he was going straight for Puck's face. Only Kurt was quick enough to respond and flicked his hand out, the blade sliced through his forearm and deflected off the bone; blood sprayed across Puck who by now was turning away – it had all happened in a split second. Kurt grabbed the knife with his injured hand and with the other he slammed an open palm into Karofsky's chest, the blow sent the jock flying across the room and into a pair of lockers.

With blood flowing from his arm Kurt took a step towards the fallen boy, only the very last vestiges of self preservation stopping his vampirism from showing. The rest of the team had cleared the room in seconds and only the three of them remained. Karofsky was quite clearly no longer a threat but Kurt still wanted to break something, an arm or a leg – maybe a few fingers… he wanted Karofsky to think only of pain when he remembered this fight.

"Kurt."

Hearing his actual first name from Puck for the second time halted Kurt's advance and the hand on his elbow turned him towards the door. "We really gotta go."

He allowed Puck to lead him to the door and looked back just before exiting. Karofsky opened his eyes and looked straight at him.

Kurt couldn't resist and vamped up. He knew it would be visible in the fluorescent lighting and flashed his fangs for good measure – the fear on Karofsky's face was worth it.

"Come on Kurt!" yelled Puck from outside and Kurt smiled at Karofsky a final time before leaving. "Sleep with one eye open," he whispered into the nearly empty room and he knew the football player had heard him.

Karofsky wouldn't sleep a wink tonight or for many more and it made Kurt smile in delicious vampiric content before turning back to human and following Puck.

Tbc…


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Puck**

Holy fucking shit! Puck tried to get his mild panic under control as they ran across the field and out a gate Puck knew was kept unlocked. No way were they going back to school today and besides, Kurt would probably need the hospital – a slashed arm was beyond the school nurse's abilities. He could see Kurt holding the injured arm but not in a way that suggested pain – just to stop the blood.

Once in the carpark Puck had to stop and bend over to control his breathing; Kurt was beside him but completely still – as if running that far and being injured hadn't fazed him at all.

"Hummel," he finally said, standing up and reaching for the other boy's arm. "Let me see it, you'll need stitches, probably surgery if he hit any nerves."

Kurt shrugged back and just twisted his lip, Puck wondered what he had done or said wrong. "Its fine – barely scratched me."

"Barely scratched?" Puck stretched his shirt out, the white of the material barely visible under the red splatter pattern. "I'm thinking not Hummel – stop being so fucking brave. You don't want me looking fine! But I am taking you to the hospital."

Kurt walked forwards and stared at him hard. "No… you are not."

That roaring in his head started but Puck shook it off – now was not the time for daydreams, Kurt was injured damn it!

"Yes," he tried to match the other's tone and expression. "I am… now get in the truck."

Kurt gave him the oddest expression - surprise mixed with suspicion. He did concede though and hopped in the passenger side, continuing to hold his arm. "Fine Puckerman, but if I get a staph infection from that alleged 'clean' surgery I will seriously kick your ass."

It was said with a small grin which Puck matched as he started up his truck. "Whatever twinkerbelle, I'll risk that over your dad burying me alive for letting his son bleed to death."

"That would be kind of ironic," Kurt muttered and Puck was sure he wasn't meant to hear it.

They got to the local ER, which was more a doctor's surgery than actual hospital, in record time. Kurt had kept quiet and so had Puck; except to ask if he was okay every thirty seconds. A nod and shake of the head was his only answer. He understood – nod for okay and shake for 'Puckerman you are such a girl'. Whatever, Puck didn't care as long as Kurt got help.

Kurt went into a side room with a nurse and Puck waited near the 2 year old magazines and TV that probably hadn't worked in just as long.

What the hell had Karofsky been doing with a knife? He had expected some fists, maybe a little kicking but that was seriously uncool. The fall-out would be… fuck, Puck didn't know. A knife wound like this could not be ignored, the doctor would have to report it and the police would be called. None of the team would say they saw anything so it would be his and Kurt's word against Karofsky's – whose father was a judge… there was a reason the fuck-tard got away with so much. Kurt would be accused of provoking Karofsky, Puck's record of brawling wouldn't help and the whole drama would only serve to make Kurt more of a target.

Why couldn't he just have walked away when they had the chance?

Oh yeah – the whole absent daddy thing.

A throat clearing made him look up. Finn was standing there with a meek expression and holding a jacket. "One of the guys called me, said you may be here… and I think you might want this."

"Wha-?" Puck looked down. He was still wearing nothing but the white T, former white T now almost totally blood red. He touched a particularly thick splash and was kind of amazed it hadn't dried – maybe Kurt had some kind of blood condition. Shit! Maybe he had that thing where your blood won't clot and now he's probably bleeding out and Puck thought if only he had-. Strong arms encircled him.

"Dude, its fine – its over and Kurt will be okay." Finn spoke low as he drew back, looking a little uncomfortable.

Puck wondered what had brought that on then realised his face was damp. He brushed at his cheek and it was wet – oh yeah.

Tears.

That's what normal people do when someone they care about may be dying… and apparently Puck was kind of sort of normal now.

"Thanks man," he tried to smile but failed and ended up feeling more tears well up. "I should have stopped it Finn – Kurt would be okay if I'd just backed off."

Finn seemed to wrestle with himself before making Puck sit and putting an arm around him, pulling him close so they were no longer making a spectacle of themselves in the middle of waiting room.

"Kurt will be okay… and from what I heard he gave as good as he got."

"But," Puck slapped at his shirt. "This is _his_ blood – there's so much of it and he's probably going to die and its all my fault." This time he knew the tears were falling freely and Finn shook his head before pulling him in to his chest and gently rubbing the back of his neck. Trust Finn to know that is exactly how to calm him down.

"I saw the lady at the desk Puck, she said Kurt will be out soon – just a few stitches."

Puck sniffled and rubbed at his nose, knowing how pathetic he must sound and looked up at Finn. "For real?"

"Swear on Mario." Puck grinned at the fact Finn used their old saying.

"Well," he said, wiping away the tears and puffing out his chest. "Just as well, cause then I would have had to go kick Karofsky's ass – I'm still gonna do that but you know, there'll be less… ass… kicking."

Finn chuckled and handed him the jacket. "I am sure Kurt would say you are as elephant as ever… put this on dumbass, you look like a serial killer."

"Eloquent," muttered Puck while pulling the jacket over his shoulders, the extra room reminding him that Finn was the broader even if it didn't always seem that way.

The confused Finn was at least something he was used to. "Doesn't matter," he finally managed to smile at his friend. "We're cool now, right?"

"Yup."

"Awesome."

**Kurt**

He saw the two them, Finn holding an obviously upset Puck, and Kurt almost smiled – so Puck really did care. Of course at this moment Kurt couldn't get into this – he was starving and while he grudgingly admitted that even covered in blood and all teary eyed Puck was still sexy as hell... he was also food.

He was food that apparently could not be compelled anymore – that was a pretty big problem but one he would have to fix later.

Finn was food _and_ dumb as bat-shit, a six year old with a shiny marble could compel him.

"Finn," he announced in his best whiny diva voice. "Please take me home."

"Um, sure Kurt – don't you wanna, I mean Puck-."

"No," Kurt interrupted him, knowing in his own sweet way Finn would try and include Puck since he must suspect Kurt and Puck were friends at the very least.

"He's done enough – now can we go?" Kurt winced inside at the hurt expression on Puck's face but there was nothing for it, ten seconds alone with Puck and Kurt was sure he'd be suckling on a major blood vessel – not something he could explain easily if he couldn't blank him out later.

"S- sure," Finn stuttered and gave Puck a 'what can I do' shrug. As they left Kurt hoped he could somehow find a way to tell Puck he didn't blame him – maybe claim they'd given him some painkillers that really fucked with his emotions.

It could work.

As they drove off and Kurt ordered Finn to pull over behind some convenient trees he wondered if he should really even care what Puck thought. The vampire in him saw Puck as a useful tool, something to be protected but not something to actually have proper feelings about.

"Look at me Finn... I'm going to drink your blood now but you won't remember it okay."

Slack jaw. "Yes Kurt."

The blood was sweet, how had he resisted drinking from this fountain for so long? Finn hardly moved, in fact he leaned in and moaned slightly. Kurt realised they would really have to finish the extra room because after this he would probably end up draining Finn in his sleep.

Puck hadn't tasted like this. Sure it had been fantastic but not sweet like Finn's – Puck's blood was more like hard whiskey, it hit you like a bullet and while it was bliss afterwards Kurt had never wanted too much. Finn was like a soda, he could drink it right to the bottom and not be worried about a hang-over.

He made himself stop and fell against the door, ordering Finn to drive them home and not speak.

He realised that while Finn tasted fine that's all there was – he was only food. Puck was more. He was smart and exciting and challenged Kurt in so many ways.

Except for being human Puck was not his inferior, he was not just an instrument – he was an equal.

"Fuck it Puckerman," spoke Kurt quietly. "I shouldn't care but you make me want to."

**Puck**

The scuffle with a gang of drug dealers was just what Puck needed. As expected the Leopard had once more turned up outside his house, asking for his assistance again. After the day he'd had Puck was tempted to say no but realised all he would do is mope about in his room and wallow.

Since Puck didn't do angst he agreed to help the Leopard.

Fucking Hummel and his bloody mood swings. Okay, so things had gone bad and yes, Puck felt guilty but its not as if he pulled the knife. His mild melt-down in front of Finn was an embarrassing memory he'd rather not revisit – Puck was quite prepared to blame it on the adrenaline and the blood. He still hadn't expected Kurt to turn on him like that – shit the guy had looked at him like a terminal disease.

It was at least nice to know that guys could be just as temperamental as chicks – in a weird kind of way. The way Kurt had latched onto Finn had not only hurt but sent jealousy shooting through Puck's veins. Is this how Finn had felt over Quinn? If so it just served to provide more guilt for all the things Puck had done in the last year. More reason to forget it in the excitement and danger of taking on crazed drug dealers high on their own product and waving guns about.

The Leopard had saved Puck from getting shot, taking a lot of hits but healing almost instantly. They'd had to get out fast as cops started arriving and thanks to the Leopard's excellent night sight and Puck's driving they got away clean.

Now they were back on Puck's front porch and the Leopard seemed, for once, slightly nervous. Not that there was much to give away, the guy was as still as a statue when he wanted to be but they'd been doing this for almost two weeks and Puck was getting a good handle on the guy's non-body language.

"What?" demanded Puck as he moved towards the front door and the Leopard just stood there, wearing his normal black on black knitwear which of course was now studded with half a dozen bullet holes.

"You need to... why haven't you asked about these?" he waved a gloved hand at the wounds.

Puck sighed. "I figured if I did you'd either suck my blood or fuck with my head... or both."

The Leopard laughed and his stance relaxed. "Perhaps I still will – our evenings usually end that way."

Taking a seat on the moth-eaten old lounge chair Puck rubbed his shaven head. "Don't take this the wrong way – but since I kind of just revealed I know what you are... why am I still alive?"

The Leopard walked slowly towards him, or more likely stalked, and stood over him, legs trapping Puck's own. "You are an intriguing individual Noah Puckerman – right now," he trailed a palm across Puck's cheek and clamped on to his neck, his hand like iron but not causing any pain. "I should be able to smell the fear seeping from your pores but all I sense is... anticipation."

Puck leaned into the touch, right now he didn't care – he wanted this if only to make him forget everything else.

Fucking Hummel!

The Leopard pushed forward until their faces were close, Puck still couldn't see features except for eyes and a mouth but it didn't matter.

"You want this?" inquired the vampire, fangs flashing.

Puck turned to the side, baring his neck. "I need it Damon," he said huskily and waited for the sharp bite, longing for the pain in a way he knew was unhealthy.

"No," whispered Damon and instead placed a trail of soft kisses on his neck, no fangs. "I think this is what you want." He put his arms on Puck's shoulders and hitched himself up, knees digging into either side of Puck's hips – their groins just an inch from other. "Tell me what you want Noah."

"I want," Puck thought about it. Honestly, how the hell could he know what he wanted? This time last year he wanted Quinn, because he really wanted Finn – but knew that was impossible. He had wanted to be liked, needed to be loved and saw fear and intimidation his only avenue with guys and overt sexuality his only weapon with women. Now here he was with a vampire in his lap practically offering the ultimate in love without consequences – Damon wouldn't be calling in the morning and wouldn't need Puck to walk him down the school hallway.

"I need," Puck whispered and crushed his lips to the vampire's. A mouth, much cooler and softer than his own greeting him and it felt good – it felt like something he should really want.

But it wasn't right – something was missing.

Puck pulled back.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into jet-black eyes that gave nothing away. "I've imagined this... I thought I wanted this."

Damon sat back and regarded him solemnly. "Noah?"

"I..." He hung his head and wasn't quite sure how to put it – but Puck was not a pussy and refused to be some tongue-tied loser in a romantic comedy.

"I'm sorry, I like you – I don't really know you but you do all the right things to get me hot."

"But?" said the Leopard with a hint of warning.

Puck ignored the threat, Damon hadn't scared him since their second meeting.

"I wish you were someone else." He said it so softly but knew Damon could hear him.

"Oh." In a blur of black Damon was standing and nodded slowly. "Don't worry Noah – you'd be surprised how well the undead handle rejection."

"Really," smiled Puck, glad that Damon wasn't going to go apeshit on his ass – he may not be scared but knowing the dude could snap him in half at least made him a little worried at times.

"Oh yeah," sighed Damon sarcastically. "Being dead I don't have to live with regret."

"That makes no sense dude."

"You imply rules Noah," Damon flashed his fangs in the half-light. "People like us don't follow rules." He looked Puck up and down, that piercing study that still sent tingles up Puck's spine. "See you tomorrow tiger... and good luck with that... someone else." The Leopard laughed and for once walked away at normal speed.

Puck stayed sitting, he'd go in later – but for now he needed to think.

He was in love with Kurt Hummel and needed a plan to win him over once and for all.

**Kurt**

Kurt walked away and allowed his happy smile to show.

It was time to stop fighting it – Noah loved him and for all his denial – Kurt had fallen for the Neanderthal.

Tomorrow he would tell him everything.

Tbc...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

One last check in the mirror and Puck smiled at the face staring back at him. He'd called Finn earlier and agreed to a weekend X-box contest, along with beer and pizza. He could tell their friendship was back and even better any lingering feelings were just that – Puck had moved on.

His second call had been to Quinn. He'd told her his plan to bag Hummel, okay so he had to say it nicer or she refused to discuss it but there had been no surprise in her voice. She would not admit to either guessing or knowing or suspecting but it was probably a mixture of the three.

Finally he'd called a few guys on the team, ensuring that whatever had gone down in the locker room was going to remain on the down low – not about him and Hummel but the fight. No-one had heard from Karofsky but by the comments nobody cared and Matt told him that between himself and Mike they had canvassed the entire team and there'd be no more problems – Puck was free to do as he pleased and Hummel would be left alone.

Puck knew it was unlikely there would be no problems but it was a good start.

He rubbed his head and resisted giving it a quick shave, perhaps he should try growing it out?

His final call had been to his aunt. The conversation had been short but when she asked if he was happier with himself his 'yes' had been instant and without a hint of a lie. Yes, he smiled at himself again, it was time to be that better and happier person everyone seemed to have known was there except himself.

Locking the door Puck shuffled to his truck going through his plan once more to win Humm – Kurt, step one was to call him Kurt, not Hummel (Quinn had strongly advised that nugget of wisdom).

"Morning hot stuff."

Puck froze before turning around, all plans crumbling as he stared at Kurt Hummel leaning against his own shiny black truck grinning at Puck behind a pair of mirrored aviation sunglasses, his legs jutting out in a provocative pose.

"Could I offer you a lift... maybe breakfast."

"I..." Puck laughed and shook his head as he moved to press Kurt up against the door. He noticed that Kurt was wearing low-riding acid wash jeans, over doc martins and topped with a simple tight red t-shirt with geometric patterns; the shirt stretched across his sleek muscle-tone and was hitched up revealing a strip of pale flesh just beside his hip.

In other words very hot and he knew it.

"I'm not sure if I respect you yet," Puck said throatily with a hint of a chuckle.

"Oh you will," smiled Kurt toothily and managed to slip from Puck's dominating position while tracing the outline of Puck's bicep through his own undersized shirt. He faced Puck from the other side of the hood and his face turned serious for a moment. "About yesterday – I hope you understand that-."

"Forget about it – we're dudes Kurt – if you wanna talk it all out fine but not necessary." Puck leaned on the smooth black metal and matched Kurt's stance. "Although at the risk of needing pink ribbons for our pigtails... I like you, and you like me – so let's just be together okay."

Kurt quite obviously breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Gucci – I was worried I might have you pining by a window for three months."

"Wha-."

"But right now," Kurt continued. "I need a caffeine hit like a crack whore needs her fix."

"Fuck me Kurt – listen to the mouth on her."

Only Kurt's high laugh answered him before he was directed into the passenger seat.

"Lush," commented Puck at the black leather interior.

Kurt jumped behind the wheel and checked his hair in the mirror before leaning over and giving Puck a feather-light kiss on his cheek. "Thought you'd like it – and just so you know." He pulled the vehicle out of the drive and motored off, his free hand drifting down to Puck's leg. "Its properly scotch-guarded for unfortunate... spillages."

Puck gulped and grinned, his leer reasserting itself after only a moment's hesitation. Plan 'win over Kurt' was out the window – Plan B, 'ensure Kurt was screaming his name before the day was out' initiated.

**Kurt**

It was a good day to be... alive [undead] thought Kurt as he put on his costume. He and Puck were about to perform their piece for the Glee club – they had even decided to do it in the auditorium with the lights and accompanying band. Live music was so much better and could adapt if the performance changed in any way – which given their rehearsals was quite possible.

The red leather pants slipped on easily enough although were quite snug around his gluts – he must have bulked up a little since he'd bought them last year. Not surprising really – he wouldn't age but could build body mass like any normal human, and he had been exerting himself a lot lately. Spinning around he let himself admire his own backside in the change-room mirror. "Hummel," he muttered to himself. "You are becoming quite the slut." The outfit's only other piece was a sleeveless matching red leather jacket – tight enough to cause injury as if that were a danger. He had kept on the arm bandage, the wound was long gone but people knew he had needed stitches at the very least.

"Huh," spoke a voice filled with lust from the doorway. "Thought you didn't like being called by your last name?"

Kurt didn't turn but waited for Puck to walk up behind him and place those surprisingly tender paws on his waist. They had refrained from any under-the-clothes stuff all day but it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist.

"Its growing on me, at least when spoken by a select few."

"Hummel," Puck growled in his ear and Kurt almost giggled like a six year old. He couldn't believe Puck was having this effect on him. At least he wasn't vamping up – that small bit of information was still on the agenda but what time was good to tell your brand new boyfriend you were Nosferatu?

Turning around Kurt gave Puck the once over and was suitably impressed. Puck looked hot at the best of times but the black leather pants, studded belt and loose-fit glitter shirt (also black but with an obsidian sheen) would have taken his breath away if he _could_ lose it.

"You ready?"

"I'm Puck."

"You know," said Kurt softly, ignoring the fact that using your own name was not an appropriate answer. "I can't promise to keep my hands to myself during our routine." To prove it he ran a finger along the line of chest revealed by the top three places on Puck's shirt being undone.

"Well," chuckled Puck, holding Kurt's hand in his own and hesitating for just a moment. "What kind of a performance would it be if you did?"

He didn't wait for an answer before strutting from the room and Kurt childishly poked out his tongue. It was good to feel somewhat human for just a moment.

**Glee**

The music started and almost immediately the whole club went silent – they had expected many things from a Kurt and Puck performance but the subtle strings and seductive strumming of guitar was not something any of them had considered. From the very first line of backing music it was obvious this was going to be a sexy pop piece.

Kurt maybe but Puck?

And Puck with Kurt doing that kind of song?

They were spellbound from the first few notes.

Before the singing started Puck strutted on to the stage, Kurt doing the same from the opposite side – their black and red contrast a brilliant juxtaposition of the boys themselves.

"Our brief was to sing about our holidays but Kurt and I decided a little something else was in order – its not about what we've done but what we are here to do."

Puck smirked and adjusted the fedora hat he was wearing as he saw through the lights several mouths hanging open at the sight of him and Kurt in tight leather pants – damn right they should be impressed!

"As the saying goes, we're here for a good time, not a long time," Kurt projected from the other side. "So sit there and enjoy this shit 'cause in the end – we just want a little fun and that's what New Directions should be about."

He grinned as several shocked gasps let fly at his language and casual sway.

Then they started singing.

Kurt:

_Me no bubbletious_

Puck:

_Me smoke heavy tar_

Kurt:

_Me be groovin' slowly where you are  
_

Puck:

_Notify your next of kin  
'Cause you're never coming back  
_

Kurt:

_I've been dropping beats since Back in Black_

They walked in close to sing together; the audience were already whistling and gasping in equal amounts

Kurt & Puck:

_And we'll paint by numbers  
'Til something sticks  
Don't mind doing it for the kids  
(So come on) jump on board  
Take a ride (yeah)  
(You'll be doin' it all right)  
Jump on board feel the high  
'Cause the kids are alright  
_

Kurt:  
_You've got a reputation_

That elicited at least three of the female audience members to crack out laughs

Puck:

_Well I guess that can be explored  
_

Kurt:

_You're dancing with the chairman of the board  
_

Puck:

_Take a ride on my twelve cylinder symphony  
But if you got other plans  
_

Kurt turned and rubbed his hindquarters up and down Puck's front – getting a string of whistles from some of the male and all female Glee clubbers.

Kurt:

_The purpose of a woman is to love her man_

Puck gripped Kurt around his waist, keeping the friction going and Kurt had to fight to stay his voice from breaking.

Kurt & Puck:

_And we'll paint by numbers  
'Til something sticks  
Don't mind doing it for the kids  
(So come on) jump on board  
Take a ride (yeah)  
(Doin' it all right)  
Jump on board feel the high  
'Cause the kids are alright_

Puck released Kurt who jumped forward and spun so they could sing nose to nose.

Puck:

_I'm gonna give it all of my loving  
It's gonna take up all of my love  
I'm gonna give it all of my loving  
It's gonna take up all of my love_

Kurt & Puck:

_I'm gonna give it all of my loving  
It's gonna take up all of my love  
I'm gonna give it all of my loving  
It's gonna take up all of my love  
_  
Kurt:

_Come down from the ceiling  
_

Puck:

_I didn't mean to get so high  
_

Kurt:

_I couldn't do what I wanted to do  
When my lips were dry  
_

For good measure Kurt allowed his tongue to swirl up and around his glossed lips as he walked away from Puck wriggling his backside and he heard more than one of his audience squeal in delighted shock.

Puck:

_You can't just up and leave me  
I'm a singer in a band  
_

Pausing for effect Kurt sneered and let his gaze fall on the target of his next line.

Kurt:

_Well I like drummers baby  
You're not my bag_Finn winced but laughed along with the others. Matt jostled him from behind while Quinn just pointed at him and squealed.

Kurt & Puck

_Jump on board  
Take a ride, yeah  
(You'll be doin' it all right)  
Jump on board feel the high, yeah  
_

_Jump on board  
Take a ride, yeah  
(You'll be doin' it all right)  
Jump on board feel the high, yeah_

Jump on board  
Take a ride, yeah  
(You'll be doin' it all right)  
Jump on board feel the high, yeah

_'Cause the kids are alright_

Kneeling at the front of the stage Puck spread his arms and started the rap that ended the song while Kurt stood on one heel looking at him with disdain.

Puck:

_I'm an honorary Sean Connery, born '94  
There's only one of me  
Single-handedly raising the economy  
Ain't no chance of the record company dropping me  
Press be asking do I care for sodomy  
I don't know, yeah, probably  
I've been looking for serial Homo-gamy  
Not some bird that looks like Sue Silvester  
But for now I'm down for ornithology  
Grab your binoculars, come follow me_

On the last word the lights cut, with the music - and in the darkness only the rapturous applause of the audience could be heard with whistles and lots of 'go boy' screamed by more than just Mercedes.

When the lights came back up Kurt and Puck were locked in a tight embrace and fighting for dominance in a fierce and deep kiss; this did not lessen the hollering and only Mr Shue's desperate signal to the AV guys to once more cut the lights finally ended the performance.

**Kurt**

A quick stop at home was all Kurt allowed himself to change and grab a 'health shake' – he figured he would need all his strength for the night to come. Puck had let slip that his Mom and sister were conveniently staying away for the weekend and Kurt fully intended to not leave until Monday morning.

Dressed in his Leopard gear he hoped it would work out that way. Surely Puck would forgive him being the Leopard, and a vampire – after all he had accepted 'Damon', someone he didn't know, as a vampire and possible lover. He knew Kurt and maybe hopefully loved him – what difference a little undeath?

Tempting as it was to wait until after sex to tell him Kurt figured he would very likely vamp up during the act – and that would be awkward, better to talk first then hot passionate sex... and maybe some blood sucking.

He was after all a young gay teenage vampire.

He ran at normal speed up the few steps and to Puck's front door, going to knock he saw the door already ajar.

If his blood did not already run cold it would have as he sensed trouble on the other side; Kurt pulled his hood up and in a flash slipped his gloves on – better to take no risks. He tried to peer through the crack but could see nothing beyond the first few floor tiles.

He must have made a sound because the door suddenly swung open and he instantly recognised one of the drug dealers from last night – a big smile on his ugly face as he cradled a sawn-off shotgun.

"At last," he sneered. "The guest of honour – have you met our other invitee?"

He gestured inside and Kurt growled as he saw two others standing over Puck, bound and gagged in a chair – they each had a gun held casually at Puck's head.

"I'd invite you in," said the drug dealer happily. "But we both know only one person here can do that."

Shit! Kurt swore a cacophony of phrases in his head.

They knew he was a vampire.

Worse they knew his weakness and somehow...

Knew he had never been invited inside Puck's house.

He could not save Noah.

Tbc...

Featured song: 'Kids' by Kylie Minogue feat. Robbie Williams.


	8. Chapter 8

_Before we begin this final chapter let me thank all the reviewers and anyone who has left a comment and anyone who hasn't. I write for fun but knowing others are enjoying my insanity makes it so much better. There were many paths I could have gone down with this subject matter, but I decided to keep it relatively free of gore and apart from the language - pretty tame character interactions. I mean hey, its Glee with a hint of Vampire Diaries - not exactly True Blood (I was tempted, could you imagine Puck and Eric?). Anyway, enjoy and I hope no-one is too unhappy with how I end this and as for sequals... maybe, but time and the fact the real Glee starts soon makes it unlikely - but if anyone wanted they are free to use the Blood Duet world I created (just let me know so I can enjoy it too).__and now, the final chapter..._

Chapter Eight

Ice cold wild rage!

Kurt had never quite felt anything of this intensity.

He'd felt sadness and frustration and happiness and jealousy but never something so uncontrollable as this sub-zero bubbling volcano that started deep within his chest and flowed like liquid nitrogen through his veins.

They had what was his and he wanted it back!

The humanity that Puck brought to their relationship was turned to ash by his proximity to danger. Kurt had never felt more vampire than at this moment. He studied his prey, three men – all with weapons and currently out of his reach.

Beneath the rage he calmly considered how he would make each of them suffer before their inevitable death.

The one closest he would peel the flesh from his bones before snapping his neck.

The one to the left of Puck he would break every bone in his body, strangulation would finish him.

The final one would beg for death as he was buried alive with his entrails torn out – a slow, painful and hopefully insect ridden end to a useless life.

"Let him go and you may yet live," he ground out the words, unable to hold back the icy anger.

The one closest laughed and brandished the shotgun, alternatively pointing it at Puck and then back at Kurt.

"A generous offer, but one you cannot likely back-up – I know what you are." Somehow he did and knew enough not to look at Kurt's eyes.

Kurt bared his fangs, punching the doorframe which splintered under his strength. "You know nothing human!"

"I know enough fanger!" The drug dealer moved as close as he dared. "You cannot enter here – and I figure you at least care for your pretty friend... maybe we can't kill you but we can end him anytime."

Studying Puck it was all Kurt could do not to call out his name. He was conscious but they had beaten him; blood dripped from a cut over his eye, bruising covered his jaw-line and several long strips of red leaked through his thin singlet.

They hadn't just hit him but tortured him. Death was too quick for these fuckers.

"What do you want?" spat Kurt. With Puck gagged he couldn't invite him in and the other people who lived in this house were away – he had to delay until he could think of something else.

"You see," sneered the dealer, chuckling to himself. "I knew you'd see reason... we want our stuff back, with interest – my boss is a little upset and while you're scary believe me, he's worse." He walked over and gripped Puck by his chin, for his part Puck gave him his best 'fuck you' stare.

"The cops have it," said Kurt, shrugging as if there was nothing he could do.

"Shouldn't be a problem for a thing like you." He smiled viciously and while still holding Puck's chin he dropped the shot-gun, reached into his belt and pulled out a knife – plunging it into the teen's shoulder and twisted it slowly before tearing it out. "Get me my fucking gear blood fucker or I'll start cutting off body-parts."

Beneath the gag Kurt knew that Puck screamed but he refused to slump and through teary eyes he made eye-contact with Kurt.

There was familiarity in that gaze that went way beyond just Damon and Puck.

His hood was in place but Kurt nodded, letting Puck know he'd find a way. He should have had more faith that Puck would already have found one.

Puck's shoulders started shaking and his eyes crinkled upwards – he was laughing!

The drug dealer also seemed confused and looked to his cohorts, they shrugged.

Kurt's phone gave a lion's roar – a message tone put there by the Puckasaurus, Kurt had it out and viewed the message in the same instant a thump revealed Puck's phone fallen from his bound hands.

Kurt smiled and locked eyes with the dealer. "Its for you," he tossed the phone.

The world around Kurt slowed as he used all his preternatural power to move faster than he ever had before. Even as the phone flew through the air he entered the house, no resistance. He passed the phone half-way to its destination – the occupants had not registered he was heading their way so quick was his speed. As the phone almost reached the lead dealer's hands Kurt came up behind the left-hand goon and punched the back of his head, the man losing consciousness before knowing Kurt was there.

The right hand goon just started processing that something was happening and began turning towards Kurt. To Kurt the movement was slow, dragged out – giving him plenty of time to grab the gun and slam it back on the other's forehead. The first blow stunned him, the second knocked him over backwards and into temporary oblivion. Kurt had wanted to tear their throats out but considered that murder in his boyfriend's house was a poor choice.

Kurt's entry finally caught the leader's attention just as he read the message.

Of course, Kurt already knew what it said.

_From: Puckzilla_

_Get in here now princess!_

Bless his sexting by touch ability thought Kurt as he sped to the leader and lifted him off the ground one handed.

"An invite," he snarled, baring his fangs and letting his eyes go black as pitch. "If ever there was."

**Puck**

The pain was excruciating but the danger was over. He took no notice of how or what Kurt did to get rid of the drug dealers either side of him – he knew it was wrong but he couldn't care if they were alive or dead. Whatever it was all he saw of Kurt was a blur of black, there was a thump to his left quickly followed by a muffled slap and then another right over his head.

Kurt was then suddenly lifting the only thug left off the ground, going fully vampiric on the guy's arse.

Puck had to admire how incredibly scary Kurt looked, you still couldn't see his face properly but those eyes and the fangs – his face a deathly shade of white. Part of Puck also recognised it was incredibly hot – which should not be a healthy thought. Kurt disappeared with the goon and a brush against Puck's side revealed he had disposed of the other two as well.

Soon enough his hands and feet were freed and the gag gently peeled away. Concerned dark eyes looked into his own and Puck wanted to laugh – Kurt still had the hood up hiding his features. The 'Lima Leopard' rolled eyes that faded to a sky blue and pulled back the clothing – for the first time Puck seeing Kurt properly in the Leopard's clothes.

"Normally I would berate you for calling me princess but this time I'll let it go."

"You love it," said Puck then winced – any movement caused pain. As gently as possible Kurt lifted him, showing no strain at the effort, and in no time Puck felt the softness of a mattress beneath him. He heard a growl followed by a tearing sound then a wrist was put against his mouth, luke-warm liquid wetting his parched lips.

"Drink," whispered Kurt and Puck obeyed, not wanting to think about what was happening. The effect was almost instant as Puck felt the strange cool warmth spread from his stomach and across his chest and through his limbs. Flesh knitted together and bones mended.

"Enough," said Kurt forcefully and pulled his wrist away as Puck tried to draw more blood. "You're all mended I think."

Patting down his body and sitting up to twist his healed shoulder Puck wiped his mouth and sucked the last of Kurt's blood off his fingers. "Am I going to be a vampire now?"

Kurt laughed and straddled him, pushing him back onto the bed. "No – you need to die first and we're not there yet."

"But-."

Kurt shushed him with a finger. "I have a question first Noah... how long have you known?"

Puck smiled and went to bite the finger but Kurt was too quick. "Somewhere between you calling me Bella and feeling no pulse in your wrist before our 'Kids' performance."

"I have a pulse," argued Kurt. "Its just very slow... and weak."

"Not as cold as I expected," muttered Puck, running a hand up Kurt's shirt.

"Depends when I last fed," answered Kurt, slipping off the garment to allow Puck's hand to roam freely over the pale sculpted flesh, his dancer's physique augmented by his vampirism. "And I never actually called you Bella – just an off-hand reference was all."

Puck snorted. "Hummel, two things – I will never ever pine for you like a silly whiny bitch..."

"And two," said Kurt huskily as he toyed with Puck's belt.

"I'm smarter than your average Finn," grinned Puck, grinding his pelvis upwards as Kurt whipped the belt off in one smooth motion. "There's always meaning in your little snarks and if you try to be coy I will catch you out every single time."

"How?" muttered Kurt, plunging a cool hand down into Puck's underwear.

"I'm Puck." He managed to not let his pitch slip as Kurt's thumb rubbed on just the right spot.

Kurt leaned down while doing that and nuzzled on his ear. "Noah."

Puck shuddered involuntarily as Kurt whispered his name – he groaned loudly and decided talk was cheap.

For tonight Kurt could call him anything he liked.

_**McKinley High**_

The entire corridor almost came to a standstill as the two boys entered the corridor and strode along. If it had been a movie they would be in slow motion, their clothing billowing out behind them by a wind that could not exist in an enclosed space... but this wasn't a movie. They weren't touching except for the odd hip clip or brush of fingers but they didn't need to – their physical connection was palpable; they didn't call each other babe or sweetheart but anyone who heard them say the other's name knew it was obvious that Noah 'Puck' Puckerman was with Kurt Hummel.

Not one person dared question it either, there was just something about the pair that dissuaded any negativity.

Puck wore clothes above his normal style, without being flamboyant and Kurt dressed down – and still retained a level of flair. Together they melded into a power couple that outshone the glory days of Finn and Quinn. Sure, they weren't the exact stock standard that the social ranks of McKinley demanded but Kurt had never been one to back down from a challenge and the student body knew it... and Puck was –

He was Puck and they understood that too.

"I knew from the beginning you know," Rachel lied to Finn as he nodded, not really listening but watching the passing couple carefully.

"That's hot," sighed Brittany and tugged on Santana's arm.

"Yeah," she had to agree, Puck was wearing aviators that Santana just knew belonged to Kurt – in her book that was love. "Let's have a threesome tonight Brit – but without the plus one."

Mercedes smiled at the couple and blew Kurt a kiss – yet something troubled her. Lately every time Kurt was near she felt her great-nanna's necklace go dead cold – she didn't really believe she'd inherited the family 'gift' but something was going on there.

Tina leaned against her locker as the couple stopped by Kurt's and Puck took the opportunity to whisper into his boyfriend's ear. She thought it was sweet but looked away –it wasn't the man-on-man action that bothered her, it was Kurt. Recently he'd been looking her way with a weird kind of hungry expression and even stranger she'd been having dreams about him... neck sucking type dreams.

"Excellent work Puckerhead," said Ms Silvester snidely and slapped him on the back as she walked next to them on their way to Spanish class. "I respect someone who learns from their errors, however stupendous." She glared at a student who dared to look her in the eye and the poor freshman just started crying. "I have lingering suspicions that this may be some kind of sneaky gay plot but at least you won't visit any deplorable off-spring on this cheerio."

"Easy tiger," muttered Kurt as Puck went to attack Ms Silvester as she power-walked off. "Don't worry," he said, slipping a hand into Puck's back pocket to grope his ass. "I have plans for that one."

"Eww," Puck made a face.

"Not that," sneered Kurt. "I'd rather drink snake blood... but she has a certain quality I think we can use."

Puck eyed Kurt warily and shrugged, wriggling his backside to get Kurt's hand working again. "If you're planning on world domination – I'm in."

Kurt, using his preternatural strength, grabbed Puck's waist with his other hand and spun him around, slamming him into the wall. "You're already in Noah – you don't think kicking criminal butt is my end-game do you?" He smiled to show he may or may not be joking and nuzzled on Puck's neck, licking the exact spot where he liked to feed.

Puck shuddered under his touch and hummed happily. "Don't care – just remember to throw me 'round some more when we get home," he leered at some girls as they walked past, just for old times sake. "Its makes me so hot when you do that."

Kurt kissed his lips. "Kinky."

"I'm dating the undead," said Puck softly. "That makes me totally badass."

Showing a hint of fang Kurt used one splayed hand to easily keep Puck against the wall, letting him know who was stronger. "As bad as me?"

Puck grinned wickedly, lifting the sunglasses to look straight in Kurt's eyes. "Shades, blood and bad baby – we're the worst fuckers ever."

_Kilcoy Psychiatric Care Facility (20 Miles outside Lima)_

"I'm sorry," the nurse shook her head at the obscenely handsome doctor leaning over the desk. "There's nothing here about your visit Dr Salvatore."

"Try again honey," suggested the doctor, looking her straight in the eye. "Doctor Damon Salvatore – I'm sure you'll find my authorisation."

"Oh of course," she said blankly. "Go right in – but no-one's had any luck with the young patient I'm afraid."

He grinned and gave her a wink. "Don't worry that sweet little head, I'll have Mr Karofsky eating out of the palm of my hand." The doctor walked to the ward door before turning and catching her eyes again. "And pumpkin, you're just going to ignore anything you hear in there, okay."

She nodded dumbly and went back to her paperwork.

The doctor went into the private room and the nurse heard him speak to the patient.

"Hello David."

The door closed.

The screams that followed she heard... but ignored, as instructed.

_Hummel Residence, late afternoon_

Burt clamped his hand down on Finn's shoulder, making the teen jump a little from where he was sitting.

"What' ya up to there son?"

"Um," Finn shrugged and showed Burt the piece of wood and knife. "Going camping next week, just brushing up on my whittling skills."

"Okay," said Burt a little bemused, but let it go. Sometimes it was easier to just accept the things Finn said and did than ask for clarification.

As Burt walked away Finn dropped the finished piece to the pile, where half-a-dozen thick sharpened stakes lay.

"Gonna be a great trip," muttered Finn to himself and patted his hidden crucifix before picking up another block to sharpen, whistling a little tune to himself before softly singing some of the words.

"_Please allow me to introduce myself  
I'm a man of wealth and taste_"

The End?


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